


Of Friends and Fists

by Internet_XxxPl0r3rxxX



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Benevolent Doc Scratch, Brawler Main Character, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, I replace the MSPA reader with a street-fighter, Like an actual street fighter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, not referring to the game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29102904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Internet_XxxPl0r3rxxX/pseuds/Internet_XxxPl0r3rxxX
Summary: Across the many timelines of paradox space, there exists one where Doc Scratch was a much more benevolent figure, at least at first. Realizing he can't overcome the power of Lord English but refusing to let the Troll race be wiped out, he reaches out to a young man with the potential to save them.Noah grew up bouncing from foster home to foster home before eventually landing a job working for room and board at an MMA gym. His dreams get hijacked by Doc Scratch and he's eventually roped into being the hero of our story. Will he manage to pull together a happily ever after?I dunno. Depends on if I can maintain something resembling an update schedule.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Imma be real I wrote this at like, 1 in the morning two nights in a row but hey, same goes for the rest of my stories and a few people seemed to like them. Hope you enjoy.

“In my life so far, I have discovered that there are really only two kinds of people: those who are for you, and those who are against you. Learn to recognize them, for they are often and easily mistaken for each other.”  
― Lemmy Kilmister  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Noah's dreams were always odd. He figured it was due to a bad diet and a lumpy mattress more than anything else, but on occasion there was a glimmer of something more. He’d dream of a home- a mansion more like, all green, it’s walls covered with empty frames and so many clocks. They seemed to be ticking down to something more than just telling the time. He was never sure why he thought that, he just knew that his stomach turned whenever he dwelt on it. Eventually, he wound up in the same place he always did. With all the bookshelves and old-timey decorations strewn about he couldn’t figure out if it was supposed to be a study or a living-room. The sole occupant didn't make the distinction any clearer. 

Noah can never remember his face. It always registers as a blank nothingness when he tries to picture it. The rest is easier to recall, though. A mixture of porcelain-white and felt-green coming together to form a crisp suit that looks nicer than anything he’ll ever afford to wear. One leg propped over the other, foot kicking to the tempo of the clocks as it hangs in the air, hands interlaced and rested in his lap. Noah commented once it makes him look like a psychologist, which he seemed to find amusing. He never gave him something to call him by, so after that he just started calling him “Doc.” 

Doc was odd, but not weird, aloof but not uncaring. Their talks were always about mundane things or Noah's own life. He’d speak in circles whenever Noah asked him anything about himself. Despite his innate curiosity he never pressed him. He was a good host, Noah supposed. Might as well not make him uncomfortable in his own home. Whenever he woke up after a dream with him in it, he felt lighter for a day, healthier. Like Doc had patched him up. He laughed a little at that since it was probably the closest to a real doctor he could afford. Doc would always offer tea and candies, and Noah would never wake up parched or hungry after eating them, at least not immediately. He tried not to think about it too much. Today, though, Doc's jovial demeanor was replaced with an air of exhaustion. A nervous edge can be heard in his tired voice, as he called out to Noah. 

“My boy… how have you been?” 

“Same as usual Doc. Clean the gym by day, get some practice in after closing and crash upstairs at night.”

“Ah, so you’ve been keeping up with your training then?”

“Yeah. I uh… I don’t think it’s ever gonna go anywhere, to be honest with you. I’m probably wasting my time.”

“I assure you, Noah, that your pursuit of the martial arts is no waste. I fear that it may serve you too often in the days to come.”

“Doc?” 

Doc let out a sigh, his form drooping a little as the sound of the clocks ticking away faded to almost silence. 

“Mr. Noah… I fear I must admit that our meetings were no mere act of random chance, or, well, entirely for the sake of pleasant conversation. I may have had an ulterior motive in bringing you here so often.” 

Noah narrowed his eyes, sitting up straighter in his chair ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. He trusted Doc- wanted to trust him, but he’d learned to never let his guard all the way down. 

“So, you have been reaching out to me. These dreams ain’t random, they’re you messing with my head?”

“I assure you my boy, I would never invade the sanctity of your mind in such a manner. I merely formed a bridge connecting my home to your slumbering subconscious. Any indication of your personality I’ve gleamed has been through our talks, not telepathy.”

“Look, this is all a lot to take in so how about we just rip off the Band-Aid already? Why am I here?”

Doc got up out of his chair and Noah stiffened, which caused Doc to put his hands up in a placating manner. When Noah seemed to relax, he proceeded to pace over to the nearest clock, staring at it with his arms folded behind his back. 

“I’ve had so much time, my boy. More than you can possibly imagine, and I’m thankful for every second I’ve been given. But my time is almost at its end.”

“You’re dying?” Noah cut in.

“That would be preferable. No, my time as myself is almost at it’s end. You’re a smart young lad, and so I think you can tell by now I’m not exactly a mere man. I am a guardian, a first guardian, moreso. I am a being as old as the planet I have watched over for countless millennia, and it would seem that a younger, angrier man is soon set to wrest control of my home from me. Wrest control of my very being from me.”

“So, what, you need my help fighting him?”

Doc sighed again, a defeated sound filled with sadness. He turned to Noah. “HE is beyond either of us, my boy.” 

“Bullshit!” Noah exclaimed, standing up from his chair. “Look, I get I’m not the strongest, but you’ve been nothing but nice to me, and now you’re telling me some asshole’s gonna rock up and screw you over and I’m just supposed to accept that? Fuck no! You’re my friend!”

Doc laughed a little, stepping over to Noah and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate that, my boy, more than you know. But some things are inevitable. Some things… but not all. I have studied every possible manner of avoiding what is to come, or at the very least changing it. My fate is sealed, but that of my trustees isn’t. Mine is the planet Alternia. It’s denizens, the Trolls, are… well they’ve had a rough go of things for quite some time despite my best efforts at steering them in the right direction. Theirs is a harsh society, cruel even. But they’re mine. What’s coming will wipe them all away, and if I am to be overcome by the tide, the least I can do is make sure my legacy makes it to shore, make sure their species lives on. But I can’t do it alone.”

“Okay, so I’m saving a species from destruction. How exactly?” 

“My powers wane even as we speak, and what little remains is occupied with keeping my current condition of freedom stable. But I can spare enough to send forth an avatar in my stead, a champion. Your heart shall guide the way, and your fists will fill in the gaps.”

“That’s all-real poetic and honestly kinda awesome sounding Doc, but you mind giving it to me straight? Don’t think I can afford to misinterpret instructions here.”

“Simple, I send you to Alternia and subtly guide you in the direction of suitable candidates for the preservation of the species. I admit I have some bias towards kinder members. Hopefully their good nature will rub off on the new generations. When you’ve assembled enough, I shall reveal to you your final objective for ensuring survival and provide you with a means of escaping this world and finding a new one, as far from what’s to come as can be.”

“So befriend a bunch of aliens, save the world, and make sure that whoever this big-bad-evil-guy that’s coming is, he can’t get rid of your people even after you’re… you know. That sum it up?” 

“Just about. You’re under no obligation to accept but… well it’d leave me quite in the lurch were you to say no, my boy.” Doc said, putting out a hand.

After a moment’s hesitation Noah clasped it firmly. “Hey, I’ve been dreaming of teatime with an alien doctor instead of the usual weird crap I see at night. Might as well fulfill your dream of a brighter future as payback.”

Noah didn’t see a smile on Doc’s face (that would imply he had a face to begin with) but he felt like he was flashing him one. “Thank you my boy. We ought to get started right away. Simply return to your seat and we can begin.”

Noah nodded and sat back down. “Anything else?”

“Just some advice.” Doc hummed. Suddenly, Noah’s chair sprang into action, shifting and changing as metallic walls and a glass panel materialized around him like a steel coffin. “Try not to die.” 

And with that, his chair-turned rocket erupted into a fireball, tearing through several floors of Doc’s mansion before piercing through the roof and out into the night sky, only to hurtle back down at incredible speeds to the large planet below.   
As Noah felt the rumble of the chassis and the heat of the craft as it broke into the atmosphere, heard the deafening roar and rattle of the hastily constructed machine shuddering all around him, he realized this felt all too real to still be a dream.

He still sorta hoped he might get lucky and wake up before impact.


	2. Crashlandings and Meat Products

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story proper begins! While sticking largely to the canon and dialogue of friendsim, this will get progressively more and more off the rails. Strap in!

Noah did not wake up.

Instead, he crash-landed onto the planet Alternia, and staggered from the smoldering wreckage of his ship. “Well shit,” He thought to himself “This thing is slag. Guess I’m really stuck here.” 

He shook some of the soot from the crash off of himself and patted down his clothing, which was thankfully still intact and unharmed save for a few small oil stains. As he looked back up after finishing, his eyes caught sight of a strange, grey-skinned alien in a cozy looking vest. Something resonated inside of him, probably some of that subtle guiding Doc was talking about.

“Okay, this must be guy number one. Try not to fuck it up Noah.” He muttered under his breath as he began closing the distance between them. 

“Hey man, what’s up? Oof, hang on, sorry. I didn’t get a good look at you before I started talking. I guess you’re really weird looking. Kind of uncomfortable about this.”

“Damn I come hurtling out of the sky in a fiery ball of metal and death and the first thing ya do is insult me? That’s… par for the course, honestly. Uh- name’s Noah. Nice to meet you.” He replied, extending a hand.

The gray boy stared at it for a second before recoiling, shielding the oddly colored hotdog he was holding from reach. “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one again! You only accept a handshake while holding an oblong meat-product so many times before the ruse stops working, even when an alien tries it! I wasn’t hatched yesterday!”

“…Yeah I’m not even gonna pretend I understood half of what that meant. Look, uh… I’m sorry what was your name again?”

“Diemen Xicali.”

“Right, Diemen. I’m here for uh… friendship.”

Diemen just stared at him for a while, shuffling back another foot or two.

“Friendship? You’re an alien and you came to ALTERNIA for friendship?”

“…yes?”

“Alright well that’s perfect actually. You just want a friend and not my sweet meat.”

“Please don’t call it that.”

“Sorry, I just get a little paranoid when I walk around with such a delicacy in public. You can’t be too careful. Folks tend to get that greedy look in their eyes around my warm sausage.”

“Okay that’s even worse. Look before this starts sounding even more like the start of a porno how about we change the subject? You live around here? It wasn’t your front-yard I just crashed into right? Sorry if it was.”

“No. I don’t really have a yard. Or a house. Not anymore at least. My place was bombed by drones a while ago. Now I don’t have a hive but I’m making it work out here, foraging for tasty things when I can. I’ve gotten pretty good at it! Talking people into giving me meat products I mean.”

“Damn dude that’s rough. Don’t really have anything on me but is there any way I can help you out?”

Diemen lowered his guard a little bit more, looking at him from under his black mop of hair. “Uh, I mean maybe? I’m still deciding whether or not you’re someone I can trust you know? Not just another lookie-loo gunning for my delicacy.”

“Hey that’s fair, you don’t know me. For what it’s worth I ain’t interested in your hot-dog. The ones on my planet don’t really have green buns or uh, legs, so I’m pretty sure eating that might kill me. Different biology and all.” 

Diemen flashed him a smile. “Oh, that’s a relief. Well for me I mean, not for you. You’re kinda screwed come to think of it. One wrong bite and you could die of poison or allergies.”

“Yeah that really sucks huh? Get the feeling if I dwell on it for too long I might start panicking and I don’t think that’d help either of us right now so how about we go back to you? You said your house got bombed?” 

“Yeah, you know. Routine drone pass through my hood. A little bombing, a little culling, that’s how it goes around here. I was a lucky one. My lusus… not so much. He’s a goner.” He finishes, choking up at the end. When two red wet streaks start going down his eyes Noah freaks out a little, thinking it’s blood. He quickly realizes it’s just water, tears specifically. Man, alien biology is weird. 

“Oh geez. I’m sorry Diemen. I’ve never really lost anyone personally. Kinda been by myself most of my life. Don’t exactly know what a lusus is but you seem to be handling their loss really well, surviving out here all on your own. I’m sure they’d be proud of you.”

He hadn’t noticed it, but they’d started walking at some point down the sidewalk. Diemen flashed him another smile, and Noah thought his freckled face wore it well.

“Thanks. I miss him. Sometimes I think I enjoy savory bunned delights as a way of covering up the pain. They’re so good though it’s hard to stop. Also I favored the juicy meats before he died anyways. It’s something we did together. (sniff)” 

Just as Noah was going to console him once more, Diemen bristled. 

“How did we start talking about my hotdog once more? Let’s drop it. Please dude, don’t bring it up again.” 

Noah was about to point out that he hadn’t brought it up to begin with, but seeing as he was clearly grieving he figured it wasn’t a good time to be pedantic. “Sure man, got it.” 

Noah hesitantly gave him a pat on the back and breathed a sigh of relief when the boy seemed to soften at the touch. He wiped away the faint tears beginning to form anew and exhaled, laughing a little. 

“Thanks. Man, this is pretty wild when you think about it. I’m just going about my day then out of nowhere an alien crash lands in front of me and listens to my life problems. It sounds like something out of a movie.”

“Hehe, yeah. Hey maybe I’m your guardian angel.” 

“You’re a vessel of raw destruction and wrath?”

“Uh… meant more like the cute kind with the halo and the little white robe. They ain’t like that in your culture?” 

“No, they’re kinda terrifying according to most myths.” 

“Got it. Guardian buddy then. That work?” 

“Yeah. You know what, we just met but that does work. Guess we’re buddies now. You know, talking to you got me thinking. I shouldn’t let the past get me down. In a way, I’m free. I’m off the grid. They probably think I died. No need to worry about knocks on my door because I don’t have a door anymore! Maybe I can live off the land for the rest of my life, scrounging for sumptuous indulgences wherever I may find them by rummaging through offal drums or smooth talking the right mark! Sounds like the life honestly. I’ll miss my lusus but I think you’re right, he would be proud of me. If I can make it without him, if I can survive on my own, I know he would be proud.” 

“Hey now, that’s the spirit Diemen! Carp dime or whatever.”

“Yeah, I think I might just be able to make this work! All I gotta do is scrounge up some succulent sausages now and then to keep myself going and keep my head down and I can live a good life! There’s one right now!” He exclaimed, pointing to a fresh hotdog on a plate in the sidewalk in front of them. 

Noah could almost swear he saw a bit of steam coming off of it, and what looked to be fishing line trailing out from the bottom of the plate and into the grass of a nearby home. 

“Uh, buddy, I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

“No dude it’s a sign! Here-“ Diemen said, picking it up and tearing it roughly down the middle. “We can even split ioHGOD!”

Diemen shrieked as the fishing line on one of the hotdog halves suddenly pulled taut and yanked him clean off his feet, sending him flying into the opened, darkened doorway of the home to his left. The door slammed behind him the second he disappeared completely from Noah’s field of view, the faint sound of his cry and what sounded like maniacal laughter lingering in the air. 

Noah only allowed himself a moment’s hesitation before sprinting to the door, intent on saving his friend from whatever horrors might lay inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I made any mistakes let me know. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> As always feedback is appreciated, especially regarding structure, pacing and any typos.


End file.
